


this life is a party (i'm never growing up)

by stevenstamkos



Series: let's set the world on fire (tonight) [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 2016 World Cup of Hockey, Blow Jobs, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-16 03:13:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8084536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stevenstamkos/pseuds/stevenstamkos
Summary: Team North America wins their first game, and Jo wants to thank Nate for his goal.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I got super emo after Team North America's 4-1 win against Team Finland. Inspired by [this](http://confusedhockey.tumblr.com/post/150622691616/mcdavos-nate-and-jos-celly-after-jonathans) ridiculous gifset of the boys cellying after Jo's goal.
> 
> Thanks go to Elise and Letícia for egging me on like the horrible enablers they are, and to a few folks who allowed me to foist my fic upon them at objectionable hours (Wes, Elena, Nicole, among others).
> 
> Title from Team North America's goal song, "Opposite of Adults" by Chiddy Bang.

Jo’s still laughing when they troop into the locker room, the kind of laugh where his nose scrunches up a little and he squeezes his eyes shut and all his teeth are showing. He’s accepting head taps from Johnny and Eichs when Nate catches up to him, and his face when he turns to face Nate is radiant. He’s fucking glowing, high off the win, and he’s the most beautiful person Nate’s ever seen.

“Nice goal, buddy!” he says, still beaming all over, and Nate’s lost, so lost.

He barely knows what he’s doing as he strips out of his gear and hits the showers, body still thrumming with adrenaline. His head’s replaying the game over and over again, his linemates a flash of speeding white on the ice, deft hands and youthful energy.

He spends too long in the shower, willing his body back into equilibrium. One by one, the other showers turn off, wet footsteps recede, and the sounds of twenty exuberant boys celebrating in a crowded locker room fade to nothing.

The water’s too hot when he turns it off, and the jumping thoughts in his mind have slowed to a soft buzz.

Jo’s waiting for him when he gets out, wearing a black Team North America Hockey shirt and a pair of loose shorts with the Team NA logo on the hem. He's also got on Nate's Avs snapback. Nate, in nothing but a towel, feels a little underdressed.

“Hey,” Jo says. His voice is lower now, the edge of excitement gone soft into warm intimacy. He gives Nate an uncharacteristically shy smile.

“What’s up?” Nate makes his way over to his stall, and Jo trails a few feet behind him.

“Your goal tonight, scooping up that rebound. It was nice.”

“Not the prettiest goal I’ve ever scored, but sure. Thanks.” Nate can’t help smiling at him. He can’t help anything when it comes to Jo. “Your goal was nice too.”

Jo shakes his head. “I could barely get that rebound onto my tape. Was chasing it all over the blue paint.” He steps closer, right up into Nate’s space, his eyes lowered, and Nate almost forgets how to breathe. “But you...out-waiting Rinne right in his own crease, going around his glove like that...that was good.” He swallows, and Nate bites his lip. “Really good.”

“Thanks?” The buzzing’s coming back into Nate’s body, and it’s getting a little too interested in how close Jo is. Desperate to lift the tension a bit, he teases, “Do I get a reward for that goal then?”

Jo lifts his eyes to meet his. This close, Nate’s got an inch on him, and the tiny upward tilt of Jo’s chin is doing unbelievable things to Nate’s libido. “I was thinking...”

Shit. Oh, shit. Nate’s dick is definitely taking too much interest. “Yeah?”

Jo’s hands are on his bare shoulders, and he’s shoving Nate back into his stall. Taken off guard, Nate stumbles a little as he goes down and thumps uncomfortably onto the seat. He lets out a short yelp.

“Oh fuck, sorry, I didn’t think—” Jo takes off the snapback for a second to run a hand through his damp hair, laughs a little nervously. “It went a lot better in my head.”

“What did?” Oh please, Nate thinks, let this be going where he thinks it’s going.

Jo maintains eye contact as he sinks to his knees, and as he reaches for Nate’s towel, Nate blows out a breath. This is—okay. So they’re doing this. Okay, unexpected, but he’s not going to say no.

But— “What, you’re not going to kiss me?”

Jo smiles a little, a private smile that only comes out when it’s just the two of them together, and shakes his head. “That’s not part of the reward.”

Nate’s almost fully hard when Jo takes him in hand, and the dampness on his skin from the shower is just enough to slick the way so it’s dangerously good. Jo’s focusing too hard on his hands, his tongue poking out a little. Nate wants to ask him if he’s okay. But then Jo’s licking his plush bottom lip once in nervous anticipation before leaning forward to drag the flat of his tongue over the head of Nate’s cock, and Nate’s hips jump before he can stop himself. There’s that secret grin on Jo’s face again, and he scoots closer for easier access, just giving Nate little kitten licks around the tip and driving the breath right out of him.

“Fuck, Jo, oh Jo, fuck.” Nate’s hands move of their own volition to Jo's head, pushing his snapback off so he can slide his fingers into Jo’s hair, which is starting to fluff a little as it dries. When Jo’s lips close over the head of his cock, his hands tighten involuntarily and Jo’s eyes widen, a quiet sound escaping him.

“That’s so good, Jo, oh, fuck, babe, that’s good.” Nate makes the mistake of looking down, and Jo on his knees for him, taking more of Nate into his mouth, his lips stretched tight over the width of his cockit’s like a particularly hard check from behind.

Jo’s eyes are huge, so fucking wide and reverent as he makes sloppy noises around Nate’s dick, and Nate must be hallucinating. Maybe Team North America lost horribly and he got smashed to forget about what a shitty night it was and his brain took pity on him and conjured up an image of his hot best friend sucking his dick in an empty locker room.

Jo pops off and traces a vein with his lips, tongues the underside of Nate’s cock and wow, this is actually happening, and it’s indescribably good. Nate’s hands are clenching sporadically in Jo’s hair, and every time he does, Jo’s little whimpers get louder.

Of course, that’s when Jo discovers that his hands are woefully underutilized, and he sneaks a hand under to roll Nate’s balls between his fingers.

Nate’s head thumps right back against the back of his stall, and he groans. “Babe, Jo...right there, yes. That’s it. Oh, fuck, you’re good at this. Where the fuck did you learn this?” Jo shoots him a mischievous look around a mouthful of cock, and Nate swears, pulls him off his dick. “Shirt off,” he gasps.

Jo scrambles to obey as if that’s what he was waiting for all along, and the skin of his chest is glowing with a light layer of sweat. He finds his spot between Nate’s legs again, as if drawn there, and takes Nate back into his mouth.

After that, it’s mostly a test of Nate holding on for as long as he can. He’s not an 18-year-old anymore, he’s not going to shoot it off after a minute, okay? But Jo’s mouth, always so red and soft, is also so very talented. Nate pets his hair and keeps up a steady stream of commentary, trying to distract himself a little from how good it feels. “You’re so good for me, Jo, such a good boy, you’d do everything I say, wouldn’t you, get right down on your knees and suck me off in front of our teammates if you had to. You’re doing so well, babe. That’s it, right there—oh fuck, yes, like that. God! Fuck, Jo, babe, so good for me, always so good for me. I’m—fuck, fuck fuck fuck oh, fuck me—”

Jo pulls off at the last second and Nate comes all over his pretty lips and his chin and his neck, drips into the divot at the base of his throat. The sight of Jo, beautiful radiant Jo on his knees all messed up like that, makes him feel like he could go another round.

Nate takes a moment to catch his breath before pulling Jo up and into his lap. “Gonna take such good care of you,” he murmurs into the skin of Jo’s jaw, rough with a day’s worth of stubble. Jo’s making soft, eager noises already, and Nate hasn’t even touched him yet.

When Nate finally does wrestle Jo’s shorts out of the way and gets a hand around him, Jo sucks in a breath and his entire body tenses. He lets out a strangled sound and presses his face into Nate’s neck, probably smearing come all over Nate’s collarbone.

Nate presses his lips to Jo’s hair. “Shhh, babe, I got you. You’ve been so good for me, gonna give you exactly what you deserve.”

It takes about four strokes for Jo to cry out softly and come apart in Nate’s arms, body writhing helplessly in his lap. He’s quiet as he comes down, but Nate’s aware of him nuzzling the skin of his throat, pressing soft kisses there.

“You good?” It feels weird to talk loudly in the aftermath of what they’ve just done, so Nate keeps his voice to barely above a whisper.

Jo lifts his head and nods, his eyes drowsy and sex-drunk. There’s come still on his face, and Nate really shouldn’t find it as attractive as he does.

“Come on, let’s hit the showers again. We need to clean ourselves up. Fuck, they’re going to be so mad, waiting for us this long.”

Jo’s a little wobbly when he stands up, probably the aftereffects of the game and their—whatever—catching up to him. “I sent everyone home,” he says. “Didn’t want the bus waiting for us. We can call a cab.”

Nate takes his hand and leads him to the showers, and Jo lets out a grateful little sigh when he gets under the spray. The cubicle’s a lot cramped when Nate steps in after him, but they can make it work.

They spend a few seconds under the spray just cleaning up quietly, too caught up in that dreamlike state that comes after a particularly good orgasm. Nate breaks the silence. “Hey, can I kiss you?”

Jo doesn’t answer, just turns and lifts his chin, and his mouth—clean now—is an open invitation that Nate doesn’t hesitate to take. Jo’s lips are slightly chapped even when wet, and he bumps his elbows against the walls when he puts his arms around Nate’s shoulders.

It’s still perfect.


End file.
